By Henry and Richard Blackaby
Personalized by David Palmer 

​For those who honor Me, I will honor. And those who despise Me, shall be lightly esteemed.  – 1 Samuel 2:30
 
One of the many truths of the kingdom of God is that if I will honor God, He will honor me. If, however, I dare to treat Him disrespectfully, I will also be treated as least in His kingdom. The initiative rests with me. My response to God determines His response to me.
 
Eli had been the priest of Israel for many years, and he knew the standards for righteous living that God required. Yet Eli faced a dilemma, for his sons were living in direct opposition to God. As their father, Eli had to decide whom he would honor. He could not defer to his immoral and ungodly sons and also exalt the God he served. By default, Eli chose to honor his sons, for he did not insist that their behavior conform to God’s standards. Eli would have pleaded that he still loved God but that he simply could not bring honor to God with his family. Yet God viewed Eli’s behavior differently (1 Sam. 3:13-14). Eli revealed his own heart when he failed to honor God before the people of Israel by the way he dealt with his sons. This is why God punished Eli and his sons severely (1 Sam. 4:17-18).
 
God is not pleased if I praise Him at church but not at my local coffee shop. It is not acceptable for me to revere God when I am with other Christians, but not in my school or neighborhood. He expects me to honor Him completely—with my words, with my actions, with my life. If I honor Him, He will honor me! 

by Melody Paris

​Why can’t I learn from my mistakes? Why do I insist on doing the same stupid things? Why does God keep loving on me when I can’t seem to get past my “evil deeds”

This year has been rough on me. I describe my circumstances as chaotic and myself as stuck. Just about every aspect of my life has changed, from home to family to job to much more. Yet, I seem to be standing still in the midst of my chaos. A friend suggested that this was a time of growth, that God was using this as an opportunity to draw me closer. The problem with that plan is me. I continually find myself choosing avoidance. The distractions around me (TV, books, friends, internet, social networking) are getting plenty of my attention. Actually, they get most of my attention outside of work or family obligations. Where is there room for God?

These are mistakes I thought I’d learned from years ago. Yet, when life became harrowing, instead of turning to God, I turned to distraction. I continue in my distracted deeds instead of facing and dealing with my life and embracing God. Once again, I find myself making the same mistakes over and over again. When does the cycle end?

It is in my frailty and weakness where God’s true essence can be seen. He loves, encourages and embraces me despite my sin. I feel His presence even now hoping that I’ll respond today. Maybe one day I will once and for all let Him break my repetitive chains. Maybe today I’ll open up and feel embraced by His grace, because I am loved, I am redeemed and I have been forgiven.
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What are you struggling with that you keep repeating over and over again? Have you asked God to help you let it go? Are you trusting Him to be the one to break your repetitive chains? I encourage you to learn from my mistakes and let Him step into your struggles. Believe that any true and lasting change in our lives must first come from the changes He makes in our hearts.

by Linda Sant

​“Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our Light.
We cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known, and when we honor the spiritual connection that grows from that offering with trust, respect, kindness and affection.

Love is not something we give or get; it is something that we nurture and grow, a connection that can only be cultivated between two people when it exists within each one of them – we can only love others as much as we love ourselves.” 
--Brene´Brown

Oh, how hard it is when I dare to consider the risk of owning my own story. Stories of enormous rejection. Receiving bitter responses from a parent when I was asking for love, or discovering the betrayal from a best friend, when I longed for a safe place, just to name a few. I feel as if I’m reliving the scenes every time I recall them—making it all the more challenging to risk further rejection when sharing them. 

But, I’m committed to pressing in. Because, like Brene, I can tolerate a great deal less the alternatives. There are dangers with giving up. Indeed, a life of self-protection results in losing out. I am at risk of living a life alone—without a single real connection. And One, my friend, truly is the loneliest number!  
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I’d like to encourage you to join me in the quest for the living bravely. I dare you to be vulnerable. Step out of your comfort zone and commit to nurture and grow. Embrace your story within, and discover what’s waiting—with the infinite power of our Light—Jesus!  

Rick Snodgrass
 
Sometimes I think I know stuff. And sometimes I think I’m entitled to know…even what needs to be left in God’s protective custody. Sometimes I think I know stuff…I even know that He knows that I don’t even know what I don’t know, but I forget. Then, I look at some of the 77 questions—kind, funny, in-your-face, thought provoking questions—that God asks Job, when Job thought he knew stuff. Questions that remind Job, and me, that He is God and I am not.
 
Here is a taste…
 
The ostrich flaps her wings grandly
…but they are no match for the feathers of the stork.
 
Are you as strong as God?
 
Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?
 
Who kept the sea inside its boundaries?
 
Have you ever commanded the morning to appear
and caused the dawn to rise in the east?
 
Have you explored the springs from which the seas come?
 
Have you explored their depths?


Do you know where the gates of death are located?


Have you seen the gates of utter gloom?


Do you realize the extent of the earth?
Tell me about it if you know!
 
“Do you still want to argue with the Almighty?
    You are God’s critic, but do you have the answers?”
 
…do yourself a favor—read the rest.
 

by David Palmer

I was talking. He wasn’t listening—or so I thought. This past weekend I spoke to our church about making a decision to stand and believe that God is indeed God. And in deciding, to accept the responsibility to live like it were true. To come into agreement with the truth that although He may be silent, He is not absent. That although we don’t see Him at work, He is moving. But, in my distressing, challenging year with ministry, where I thought for sure He had abandoned me in my vocation, I had also begun to believe that He had forsaken me in my parenting. 

My daughter Madeline (Mei) has struggled mightily over the years. She grew up with the very present danger of seizures. And so, even at the age of two, she was put on heavy medication—barbiturates—prescribed to keep the convulsions under control. What resulted? During her formative years, she didn’t develop the things that most kids her age develop. She was living under a cloud, a fog. This continued for years—well past puberty—until she was finally able to be weaned off of the meds. Happily, she remains seizure free. But a scant 6 years in, she is still playing catch up. She has extreme sensory issues, and also struggles with boundaries and social interaction, known as Executive Cognitive Function. And in the midst of all that, she is trying to figure out who she is as a person and who God created her to be. 

​Indeed, during my period of darkness, she was wrestling mightily with multiple issues that seem to be at the forefront of every media conversation and culture—specifically on two fronts—sexuality and transgenderism (commonly known as gender dysphoria). As a lover of God and His word, a parent, and pastor, this additional challenge in our lives was seemingly insurmountable. It almost proved to be the straw that broke me during that time. I was angry, combative, deeply wounded, depressed and counted myself as a failure. I cried. I screamed. I lamented openly at God. I blamed everyone else. I blamed myself solely. Nothing gave me peace. I argued the medical community points, spiritual ramifications, and even human “evolutionary” reasoning. Nothing worked. Then, seemingly in concert with my reconciliation with God, I just stopped. I trusted. I prayed. I saw that He truly is who He said He is…sometimes it’s the things we don’t say that make the most difference. 

by Linda Sant

​We need to fight hard to let go. I don’t mean escape. I mean release the commitment to control. I was raised in what most would describe as a very fun family. We went boating, skiing, rode motorcycles, and traveled every summer. On the outside, it would appear that we Taylor’s didn’t have a care in the world. But, that was on the outside. Behind the scenes, things were very different. On the inside, especially at the emotional level, we were very much on our own. My mother and father both lost their parents at a very young age. As you can imagine, they didn’t have role models or instruction to help them identify feelings, much less learn how to express them. Feelings always seemed to come with the message, “Keep yourself under control”. At all costs, get along with everyone. Be good--or at least appear to be good. So what did we do? We developed what I call “work-arounds”. You know…denial, compartmentalizing, distraction, over achieving. All of this amounted to working harder. The result? This made me tired!

When we fight to work harder, we get caught in the web of fighting the wrong fight. I learned, if not the hard way, that an essential principle for living is the art of letting go. Fighting to keep things under control takes an enormous amount of energy. And we can even get really good at it. But, over the years that “art” of getting along and being good seemed to make my life even messier.
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What “work around” have you perfected?  I’m sure you are good at it for now--that is until you become worn down. The result? You get more tired! See the cycle? If we already know God is in control, then why are we trying to reinvent the wheel? Let go of your “work arounds” and trust God. He not only has the Ultimate Control, but is much better at it than we are anyway!  Fight the right fight.

by Chip Johnson

​What is the difference between a peacemaker and a peacekeeper? First, we have to be clear about what peace is. My idea of peace is basically calm--like when I go to my favorite spot in the mountains or on the beach looking out at the clear blue water. Or I might think of peace as the absence of conflict. 

When the Bible talks about peace, it uses the Hebrew word, “shalom”(“eiréné” in Greek). Even today, shalom is used to say ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ in Israel and for Jews all over the world. As it turns out, shalom has a much deeper meaning than my initial understanding of peace. Shalom paints a picture of unity and completeness. It is a reconciliation and redemption which ends up being something altogether new and complete.

This brings a fresh meaning to Paul’s letter to the church in Ephesus when he says, “For Christ himself has brought peace (eiréné) to us. He united Jews and Gentiles into one people, in his own body on the cross…” 
In a time of war, a peacekeeper is often a soldier or diplomat who gets enemies to agree to a cease-fire. In this case, peace is kept when conflict is avoided. As long as each keeps to his own side, there won’t be any trouble. When we focus on peacekeeping, our goal is to keep us safe the way we are. Peacekeeping is successful when warring sides manage to tolerate each other even as they remain enemies.

In his sermon on the mount, Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers…” As peacemakers, we don’t simply avoid conflict, we create shalom. Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross didn’t just allow Jews and Gentiles to exist separately in relationship with God, it unified them as one--an entirely new people. A new kind of people were invented when Jesus brought us peace: Christians. We have been made complete together and there is no longer Jew or Gentile, male or female, master or slave--we have all been made children of God.

​As Jesus’ Church in the Treasure Valley, with all its diverse backgrounds and influx of new people, are we working to be peacemakers or peacekeepers...or do we even think of shalom much at all outside of our own personal sense of wellbeing?

by Melody Paris

I’m a Christian mystic.

I have a query for you: does that statement bother you? It bothered me. A year ago I would never have proclaimed or even thought about being a mystic. In fact, when I read the words “Christian mystic” in a book last summer, I immediately felt uncomfortable and a bit hostile toward the author and his message. In that moment I found myself wading through years of religious fundamentalism that I didn’t even realize I had been holding onto.

That launched me into a time of research and prayer. My first goal was to understand the word “mystic” and then to understand why it bothered me so. What I discovered was a well of fear that had been instilled in me as a child. My parents and grandparents experience in a religion that was very rigid in its beliefs and practices, left them stymied in their faith and relationship with God. They passed that onto us kids. In the words of the Church Lady, “well, isn’t that special.”

What I’m discovering within myself is a need to examine my own rigid religiosity and see if I can find some healing. This quote from Janet Hagberg and Robert Guelich’s book The Critical Journey: Stages in the Life of Faith has been a good reminder of this need:

by Doug Smith

​When I was younger, I took great pleasure in serving others. Something about it drew me in. I was privileged to watch my own grandfather model a servant’s heart in everything he said and did, for me and for others. I knew this was an important characteristic of God. But, I still didn’t fully understand the depth. Then I began serving in several ministries at my church. I was learning the true need of a servant and it motivated me even more.  I found great joy in helping others through their illness or task. I told the Lord that I wanted to be a willing and able vessel, and to be used by him. Always.

Then everything changed. In January of 2016, my world was turned upside down rather quickly. I was diagnosed with Stage 3-A Lung Cancer. In a very short time, I found myself in more doctor’s offices and hospitals than I had ever been to in my entire life, including the ones when I was just visiting!  I suddenly realized what it meant to really be IN NEED.  I was now the person that I had been ministering to! 

Through all of this, God showed His true mercy and love. My family and I were being surrounded and served by believers and non-believers alike. This was a very difficult time for me. I was always the one on the other end--doing the serving and helping others.  It was hard to accept help. But the Holy Spirit spoke to me and said, “It’s your turn.” The Lord needed to use this time to teach others to serve and be obedient.  You see, obedience is what God is truly interested in.
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John 13:5-17 shows we are to serve one another, with Jesus as the example.  Peter did not understand why Jesus wanted to wash his feet.  This was Jesus! Jesus is teaching us here that no one is too good, and that we cannot let pride get in the way.  There will always be a servant and a recipient and we all need to be obedient whichever side we find ourselves on. God has been so good to me, and has since healed me of Cancer.  I grow stronger every day and will gladly serve with my whole heart.
What season of life are you in?  Are you able to serve God? Or are you the recipient?  God loves us all the same.  Are you being obedient?

by Misti Sanders

​I thought this article “How Do I Know If I Really Love Jesus?” by Jon Bloom was an insightful read. Hope you enjoy this excerpt.  

How do we know if we really love Jesus? The Bible’s answer might surprise you.

We know if we love Jesus by what we consistently (not perfectly) do and don’t do. We know this because Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15). And the apostle John echoed Jesus when he wrote, “This is the love of God, that we keep his commandments” (1 John 5:3).

At face value, these statements should make any lover uncomfortable. We all know intuitively that the essence of love is not merely its actions. Love cannot be reduced to a mere verb. That’s why everyone laughs at John Piper’s illustration of a husband handing his wife a big bouquet of flowers on their wedding anniversary and then telling her he’s just fulfilling his obligation as a dutiful husband. It’s why everyone understands Edward John Carnell’s illustration of a husband asking, “Must I kiss my wife goodnight?” Because we know the answer is “Yes, but not that kind of must.”

Not That Kind of Must
“God made us to wear our love on our sleeves. He wired us to serve what we treasure.”

Neither Jesus nor John meant that obeying Jesus’s commandments is the same thing as love. What they meant was that love for God, by its very nature, produces the consistent characteristic of “the obedience of faith” (Romans 1:5). So, on earth, love for Christ tends to look like obeying Christ.

Now, love, faith, and obedience are not the same things. Love is our cherishing or treasuring Christ, faith is our trusting Christ, and obedience is our doing what Christ says. The essence of each is different. Bad things, like dead orthodoxy and legalism, happen when we make them the same thing. We must keep Christ’s commandments — but not that kind of must.
Though they are distinct, they are inseparable. We cannot love Christ without trusting (exercising faith in) him (1 Peter 1:8). We cannot trust Christ without obeying him (James 2:17). So, naturally, we cannot love Christ if we live in persistent, conscious disobedience to him (1 John 1:6; Luke 6:46). 

Wearing Our Love on Our Sleeves
This is an elegant, devastatingly simple design. God made us to wear our love on our sleeves. He wired us to serve what we treasure. How we love ourselves is evident by how we serve ourselves, for good (Ephesians 5:29) or for evil (2 Timothy 3:2). How we love our spouse or children or friends or pastors or co-workers or pets is evident by how we serve or neglect them. Whether we love God or money is evident by how we serve or neglect one or the other (Luke 16:13). In the long run, we cannot fake who or what we really serve.

It’s true that we sometimes can hide our sleeves from human view — sometimes even from ourselves — at least for a while. But God has a way of exposing our sleeves eventually. 

This is what the parable of the good Samaritan was about, which nearly all of us are granted the opportunity to live out in different ways and at different times. The priest, the Levite, and the Samaritan all outed their sleeves by the ways they responded to the injured man (Luke 10:31–35). 

“We know what love is by what love does.”

It’s also what the story of the rich young man in Mark 10 was about. He seemed at least partially blind to the love on his own sleeve, because though he thought he had done lots of obedient things (Mark 10:19–20), something was troubling his soul — which is why he came to Jesus. But Jesus saw the man’s sleeve clearly and with one sentence drew everyone’s attention to it: “You lack one thing: go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me” (Mark 10:21). Then it was clear: the man could not obey Jesus because he loved and trusted money more than Jesus. 

We see this all over the Bible: love for God or love for idols is made visible by obedience or disobedience to God. We see it in Cain with Abel (Genesis 4), Abraham with Isaac (Genesis 22), Reuben with Bilhah (Genesis 35), Joseph with Potiphar’s wife (Genesis 39), David with Saul in the cave (1 Samuel 24), David with Bathsheba (2 Samuel 11), Judas with his silver (Matthew 26), Peter with his denials (John 18), Peter with the Sanhedrin (Acts 4), Ananias and Sapphira with others’ admiration (Acts 5), and Demas with Thessalonica (2 Timothy 4) — just to name a few.

By This We Know Love
But the most important place in Scripture (or anywhere else) we see love demonstrated through faith-empowered obedience is in Jesus: 

• By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us (1 John 3:16).
• God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8).
• Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends (John 15:13).

Supreme love was made visible in Jesus’s death on the cross, where “the founder and perfecter of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2) pursued his, and our full, eternal joy (John 15:11) through his obedience in the midst of the greatest suffering (Hebrews 5:8). God wore his love on his bloody sleeve. Jesus did not merely “love in word or talk but in deed and in truth” (1 John 3:18). “By this we know love.”

“How do we know if we love Jesus? By what we consistently (not perfectly) do and don’t do.”

How do we know if we love Jesus? By what we consistently (not perfectly) do and don’t do. All lovers of Jesus keenly know we don’t love him perfectly. “We all stumble in many ways” (James 3:2), and “if we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us” (1 John 1:8). But “if we say we have fellowship with [Jesus] while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth” (1 John 1:6). 

We know what love is by what love does. All lovers of Jesus refuse to walk in persistent, conscious disobedience to him. Our faith-empowered obedience in public and private places is the God-designed evidence of our love for Jesus.